My life changed forever...

Thirty years ago lightning struck. That charged bolt of light from the Thunder Beings led to one of the absolute greatest blessings and dearest loves of my life.
Cliff saw the lightning strike while logging with two buddies up Smith Creek in the Crazy Mountains; then they saw the smoke rise. Winds had already whipped the fire into a blaze when they got to it but they worked together to saw trees down to protect a batch of cabins. The buffer zone Cliff, Ralph and Mo created during the hours before the Forest Service arrived saved what turned out to be third-generation-owned historical cabins.
Thirty years ago this month when I returned to the Forest Service office in West Yellowstone after a 4-day hitch alone in the backcountry as a wilderness ranger, I was immediately sent along with another fella to the Crazies to help fight what had become a large 5-division fire.
A few days later in a quirky twist of fate, Cliff and I ended up working together as a two-person saw team on the Smith Creek Fire. I’d never seen anyone so skilled with a saw. His biceps were as big around as my thighs. He wielded a 36” bar on his saw with calm coolness and eyes that sparkled like Santa Claus.
The friendship begun in the blackened soot on steep slopes beneath blue skies defies definition and forged much of who I am, where I live and how I show up in this world. I’ve grieved him perhaps more this October than a handful of the last Octobers. Autumn this year has played out much like it did that season, languid and long with lavish foliage, starry nights, exceptionally warm days and a handful of dramatic storms. The past few weeks I’ve shed tears beneath stars, at sunrise and sunset and spaces between. I’ve also reveled in the warm fuzzies and awe of the love we shared for each other and this mountain.
I am lucky. So. Damn. Lucky.
Everyone should have a Cliff in their life. I can’t imagine my life without having had him in it.
Happy Birthday dear Cliff! I miss you beyond words. I love you dearly. Eternally.

Delightful Evening celebrating autumn and the arts at my studio...

For a few moments near the middle of the evening there was a slight lull in the amount of people surrounding me during which I heard Brad’s deep rich voice as he sang “Burning Ring of Fire.” Ah…my bones simultaneously melted and skipped with happiness. I excused myself, slipped out the door and relished the beautiful autumn evening Momma Nature provided as a stage for the talented friends who shared their magic at the mic.

The studio open house was a whirlwind with enthusiastic and curious guests fulls of questions and shares provoked by my creations and the beauty of this place and space. Raymond and I were so busy engaging with the few hundred people who showed up that we forgot to take photos. Thank you Kostas for capturing one of the savory slices of memories from a rare and special night graced with goodness.

From my tub to you...

Candles lit, I lie within the comfort of my o’l clawfoot tub; grateful for my bones - feeling their connection to earth and ancestors. Somehow this new artwork feels like being shared with you at this moment.

“Birthright of Fancy” - mixed media painting available in Shop

Bhutanese Prayer Flags

For thousands of years, prayer flags have been created and hung to promote peace, compassion, strength and wisdom. Raymond and I brought these home from Bhutan.

Three prayer flags were raised in front of my studio one-year-to-the-day after Cliff’s death. Three more prayer flags were added on our first anniversary. Nine days later three more flags were raised one year after my mother’s death. The nine prayer flags danced through nearly two full years of sun and snow.

Released by air and wind, prayers and mantras sanctify and purify all-pervading space which becomes a permanent part of the Universe even as the flags fade. Life is replaced by new life. Prayer flags acknowledge the greater cycle which all beings are part of. I gathered the tattered and torn material before the elements scattered them to the ground. Precious pieces of the prayer flags have been dancing their way into my work… finding new life.

"Izar"

Birds have been visiting. Cawing, calling, flitting, hovering, pecking, poking, provoking, beckoning me into portals of memory - connecting me to spirits, ancestors and the moment; the present of presence.

Studio Open House - come celebrate with us!

Saturday October 12

4-8pm

160 Hideaway Trail, Livingston, MT

Momma Nature is unfurling her regal autumn regalia - inviting me to open my doors and share the harvest. Several never-before-seen art series, little gems and giant creations will be revealed. Live music, fun gifts and the joy of gathering in this special place at the end of the road above our sweet little town and the Yellowstone River. Come and see us.

Sneak Peek: Unveiling My Latest Passion—The Zen Rabbits

Here is an exclusive first look at one of my latest creations. “Gemma” is one of the originals from a new series of charcoal drawings…Zen Rabbits. Meditations on spirit, crafted with poetic grace and soulful depth, each drawing transcends “rabbit” to reveal something truly spiritual and contemplative.

Stay tuned for the full unveiling!

New Series coming soon....

I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole, into a realm where light dances with vibrant hues and shadows play with time. Here, evocative scenes invite contemplation and transcend ordinary boundaries.

My journey began at the fluffy tail end of 2022, nudged into action by my forever-love of rabbits. As I blended paint and passion, the rabbits multiplied, their presence unknowingly aligning with the “Year of the Rabbit.” Soon, a raven persisted in joining the ensemble, adding its own mysterious allure to the gathering.

This series is an unfolding adventure, a collection of auspicious moments captured on canvas, where each stroke is a step deeper into the unknown. The paintings and drawings, scattered like stars across my studio, are more than art—they are invitations to cross into thresholds of luminance, where the ordinary meets the extraordinary.

I haven’t a clue where these paths will lead us, but I am eager to explore them together.

Memorable Easter Sunday

Raymond and I were honored to share Easter Sunday adventures on ice with legends Pat Callis and Conrad Anker. Pat is an 86 year old sprite who discovered the ice at Hyalite Canyon decades ago. He is a full time professor at MSU and inspires us all with his gumption and strength.

I highly recommend the documentary “Piton” about Pat Callis for inspiration.

Google Conrad Anker hours of articles (cover of National Geographic, TIME, Outside, etc. The stellar documentary movie Meru is one of our favorites.

Beautiful Moments

I love this bright, brilliant authentic being…! Kate Northrup came into my life last Fall where she continues to dramatically shift and change my world in profound ways. What an honor and pleasure to meet her in person. I soaked up her radiance recently while attending a workshop she presented in Miami.

Interviewed on the Lookout Podcast

Luke transformed his grandfather’s o’l Airstream into a recording studio. His mission to share inspiration via conversation powers him to pull his studio-on-wheels down Montana roads to create authentic connection and content. The windy afternoon we spent together in the silver egg hatched an episode that is candid, intimate and revealing…

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Journal

Wishing you the jolliest of holidays!!!

Perhaps some of you remember the santa carvings I did for Big Sky Carvers during my 20’s? Here is one I stained with pin-striped overalls like my grandfather used to wear as a gift for my mother decades ago.

"Diving into Delight: Meet the Playful Otter Bronzes"

Raymond and I found ourselves in the beautiful Colorado wilderness around this time last year, driven by the sole purpose – or rather, a soul purpose: delivering the original clay otter sculptures to one of the country's most esteemed foundries. After five months of anticipation, the first few otter sculptures became available in May. Since then, these playful otter pairs have been joyfully making their way into collectors' homes.

Finally, the moment has arrived when I have a few in stock and can officially announce them to the world. Crafted in solid bronze, these otters are eager to infuse your holiday season with love, whimsy, and a touch of mischief.

Seasonal Ritual

In the enchanting glow of tree lights and the nostalgia-laden hum of Christmas carols, I find myself enveloped in the warmth of memories, with my mother's spirit embracing me most tenderly during this magical season. Christmas was her time to shine, and the air still carries echoes of her laughter and the rustle of wrapping paper.

Before dawn tiptoes into the room, I retreat to the antique desk, a relic that my father and I restored together. A soft glow emanates from the lights of the Christmas tree, casting a gentle ambiance on my quiet morning ritual. There, by the flickering lights, I open my journal and find solace.

In the delicate stillness, I light a candle in my mother's cherished porcelain ashtray. The golden bird, poised on the edge of a pink blush bloom, is almost too beautiful for lipstick-stained cigarettes but, of course, perfect for my mother. It's a treasure which sits this morning next to a small porcelain cup adorned with a whimsical rabbit—a token from my adventures in Japan many moons ago.

Dried rose petals, a tender reminder of fleeting beauty, float gracefully in the velvety darkness of ceremonial chocolate, crafted with care by Guatemalan women and prepared by me each morning with intention and reverence for the subtle plant medicine and female lineage. The air is infused with the rich aroma, creating a delicate dance of scents and memories. I am transported to the heart of the holiday season, surrounded by the essence of love, tradition, and the enduring spirit of my mother.

Lady Tatterley

Her tattered right ear inspired her name. Remarkably bold, Lady Tatterley is a rather tough regal and demanding o'l gal. She's been in our life up here at the end of the road near the top of this mountain for quite a few years. We LOVE her. Don’t you?

Glorious Commute

Sooooooooo blessed….

Happy Birthday Cliff

Cliff and I would celebrate his birthday each year in the tiny intimate o’l bar lounge back of the dining room at Chico. We’d share appetizers. Oysters Rockefeller and “Green Cheese” were the headliners. Green cheese was his name for Brie as he misunderstood me the first we had it up here in this cabin on the mountain. Like most “Cliff-isms” the name stuck and so it was and still is Green Cheese.

I’d splurged then, when I brought Brie home that first time (which he loved but which of course didn’t compete with the pastry wrapped, huckleberry sauce embellished Brie that Chico’s menu faithfully offered). Those birthday dinners were special.

His birthday is still special and celebrated throughout the season. Autumn always ushers in extra “Cliffness.” His favorite time of year - as the light and air change, the leaves explode into richness and crispness, the stars shine brighter and the weather gets moodier - I hike his places and feel his graces. I cry. I smile. I talk to him. I feel him -more each year (thankfully).

My reverence for this mountain, the love we shared for Momma Nature, the respect we had of each other’s nature, the deep friendship and forever love we have - Precious.

Happy Birthday Cliff

10/21/47 - 5/1/16

Studio visit and sleepover

When one of your absolute MOST favorite painters invites you to his studio to paint and learn from his vast experience - you pack your bags and Snoopy Dance your way across Montana mountain passes to indulge in wisdom and inspiration (plus a fabulous sleepover to deepen the experience and time together). Kat provided made-with-love dishes and the cranes provided a sunrise serenade as I snuggled beneath cozy covers in their artful home.

Six High Places - final summit

Bella is the daughter of a dear friend. She’s a beautiful bright seventeen year old with a wise heart and keen observational skills. Such a dear. When her mother couldn’t accompany her to the final summit performance by Carrie and Genevieve (violinist and ballerina) - I gladly got up at 4am to meet Bella and venture to the summit of South Baldy in the Tobacco Root mountains in time for a candid mountaintop embracing photo before others arrived for an unforgettable artistic performance where Genevieve found a rock large and flat enough to perform “on point” in her tattered pink ballet shoes.

Walking Down the Aisle

During the few months leading up to our big day, I imagined the moment when Cliff would walk me down the aisle. I would lean into him as I’d done for the better part of my adult life. He would offer his never-in-a-gym bulging mountain man arm for me to wrap into. He would have said something “Cliffy” in that moment meant only for me but loud enough for the guests, the birds and the bears to hear. Whatever he uttered would have been unpredictable with the exception of the inevitable endearment “Honey” spoken like a punctuation point; laden and dripping with golden sweet richness.

Guests wrote on prayer flags and tied them to the Aspen tree under which Cliff and I would have begun the wedding walk together. Strips of wispy white cotton blasted prayers, love and grace which emboldened the steps I took alone.

Not alone.

Despite many kind offers to walk me down the aisle no one could have taken Cliff’s place.

Musical notes leapt from Leslie’s violin and danced with birdsong. I began the walk, seven years ago today.